


These Truths I Can't Not Tell You

by calloftheocean, zerodaryls



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Anal Sex, Aziraphale Has No Genitalia (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has a Vulva (Good Omens), Canon Compliant, Come Swallowing, Community: Do It With Style Events, Creampie, Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Crowley Has Both a Penis and a Vulva, Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Enthusiastic Consent, Feelings, First Kiss, First Time, Genital switching, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Making an Effort (Good Omens), Marathon Sex, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Other, Porn With Plot, Truth Serum, Vaginal Sex, forced confession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:29:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28856625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calloftheocean/pseuds/calloftheocean, https://archiveofourown.org/users/zerodaryls/pseuds/zerodaryls
Summary: When Aziraphale is taken to Heaven and forced to ingest a truth-serum-infused fruit, he thinks it may all be over for him and Crowley. Luckily, the serum never seems to take effect, and Aziraphale returns home unscathed. But with Crowley sitting so close to him in the back of the bookshop, why does he suddenly find it so difficult to keep his thoughts to himself?
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 34
Kudos: 353
Collections: Bittersweet Good Omens, Do It With Style Good Omens Reverse Bang





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This work is a collaborative effort, written by zerodaryls and illustrated by calloftheocean, as part of the Do It With Style Good Omens Reverse Bang 2021 event. Call created the absolutely stunning art and came up with the overall concept for the story, and I (Zero) wrote the fic, with lots of input and brilliant suggestions from Call. This was my first collab and I feel very lucky to have been paired with such an imaginative, talented person. We hope you enjoy this work as much as we've enjoyed working on it!

It had been 876 days since the averted apocalypse. Aziraphale knew this, somewhere, in the back of his mind. It wasn’t that he was actively keeping track, of course, but as a rather powerful being whose essence technically existed out of time, he found himself keeping a subconscious record of his life’s events without really trying to. For instance, if asked, he could tell you how many days it had been since the last time he’d been to the city of Rome (100,967), or how many decades had passed since he’d visited Paris for the very first time (40.2, almost precisely). He might have to think about it for a moment, but the information was all there.

In those 876 days since Aziraphale and Crowley had officially chosen “their own side”, the angel had known contentment like never before. Oh, sure, the world wasn’t perfect, but he finally felt he had a place in it; a place he _liked_. He was no longer affiliated with heaven, but he’d spent the past two years or so as a free agent of goodwill. He blessed people and performed miracles without worries of reprimands. He indulged in sushi and wine and music and art and all of those lovely, wonderful things that made the Earth so worth preserving, and he didn’t have to hear his former superiors belittle him for such interests.

And, best of all, he met with Crowley regularly, and it didn’t have to be a secret. He no longer felt the anxious urge to glance over his shoulder, or to deny their association with one another. He didn’t have to fool himself or anyone else into believing that Crowley was his hereditary enemy, and felt more than a bit silly for ever feeling that way to begin with. It was all so much easier, now, and Aziraphale relished every moment of it.

They’d fallen into a routine of going for lunch every Saturday, and Crowley would come by the shop to visit on Wednesday evenings. That was their more-or-less official meeting schedule, anyway. But oftentimes, one would visit the other throughout the week. Crowley would say he was bored, that he “had nothing going on, anyway”, and come over with a bottle of wine to share. Or he’d have “just happened by” a new bakery, and picked up a box of pastries for Aziraphale to sample. Sometimes it was Aziraphale who would initiate a last-minute meeting. He would call to say he was concerned about the ducks in the park; that it’d been too long since they’d fed them. Or he would tell Crowley of a play he’d like to see, or a concert he thought the demon might enjoy.

Today was one of those lovely unplanned days; he’d phoned Crowley that morning and told him he’d obtained the latest in a series of books they’d been reading together. Er, well, not exactly reading together. Crowley himself wasn’t much of a fan of reading (mostly because the “words get all jumbly on the page” whenever he tried, apparently), but he did seem to enjoy being read _to_ , if the plot was interesting enough to hold his attention. So, Aziraphale would invite him over every now and then, and read aloud a few chapters of whatever book they were working their way through.

It had started out with Aziraphale reading from his chair, but over the months he’d ended up migrating to the sofa, and sometimes, if he was very lucky, Crowley would curl up right next to him–he even placed his head on his shoulder a few times. It’d caused him to stutter over a few words, but he’d recovered quickly, thank goodness.

Sometimes, Aziraphale had to hold himself back. He found himself tempted to put an arm around his friend, or even press a kiss to his forehead, or nose, or cheeks–or, Someone help him, his _lips_.

But Aziraphale dared not do such things. Safe as they may be to be close to one another now, he wasn’t altogether sure it was safe to act on his true feelings toward the demon. Much better to keep this lovely little routine they’d developed, this closeness that was more than he ever thought possible between them, than to risk losing it all on account of his silly, rather _human_ feelings.

Best not to dwell on it, he’d decided.

Aziraphale was checking in his latest shipment in the back of the shop when he heard the front door open.

_Ah, that must be Crowley,_ he thought to himself, a smile tugging at his lips and brightening his eyes as he brushed the work from his hands and moved to stand.

Crowley wasn’t due for another hour and a half, but he was known to show up early, especially if he had nothing else going on. And, well, Aziraphale _certainly_ wasn’t going to complain about that.

If he _was_ going to complain about something, though, he might be tempted to do so in regards to the way he and Crowley spent their time together. It wasn’t that he didn’t cherish every moment spent with the demon, his closest (and indeed only) friend. He enjoyed his company, no matter what they were doing. It was what they _weren’t_ doing that left a sort of ache in him, somewhere deep between his corporeal form and the very essence of his being. A longing so long held it terrified him to think of letting go, of finding out if anyone would catch him. If _Crowley_ would catch him. After the averted apocalypse, Aziraphale had wanted desperately to believe that he would–that Crowley would leap into his arms if finally given the chance. But it was that small, bothersome bit of doubt that had kept him from finding out.

There was a part of the Bible that Aziraphale was well aware of, a verse that promised one that if they had “faith the size of a mustard seed”, they could move mountains. Unfortunately, having _doubt_ the size of a mustard seed proved to be just as powerful, forming mountains between Aziraphale and the very love of his life.

And as the mountains formed, they grew taller and taller, until Aziraphale couldn’t see over the height of them anymore, and he convinced himself that he was foolish, that Crowley didn’t feel the same way after all, and that, should he ever say anything, he’d lose him entirely. It was truly amazing what that small seed of doubt could do. 

But Aziraphale had resolved to be content with what he had. He truly did appreciate having Crowley in his life in _any_ capacity, and he wasn’t looking to spoil it due to feelings that Crowley didn’t or perhaps even _couldn’t_ return.

No, no. This would be enough, he told himself. It would _have_ to be.

No matter how desperately the mere sight of the demon made Aziraphale want to hold him close, to kiss his forehead and pet his hair and tell him how _marvelous_ he was. Though, Aziraphale wasn’t so sure that Crowley would be able to sit still long enough for such affection to be poured out on him, even if he _did_ return Aziraphale’s feelings.

Which he didn’t. Clearly. Nearly two and a half years of freedom and Crowley hadn’t made any moves, hadn’t crossed any of those boundaries that were no longer necessary now that Heaven and Hell weren’t breathing down their necks. And, of course, Aziraphale reasoned, if Crowley _did_ feel the same way, he’d have made a bloody move the moment they were free! Six millennia of waiting would have had a lovesick Crowley _jumping_ at Aziraphale as soon as he’d gotten the chance, like a tightly wound Jack-in-the-Box finally springing out of its cage. Aziraphale had held his breath in anticipation of such a moment when Crowley’d walked him back to the shop after their celebratory lunch at the Ritz on that wonderful day.

But there’d been no jumping of the romantic sort–not then, and not in the 875 days since. And so, a few months prior, it was with a heavy heart that Aziraphale had finally come to the conclusion that Crowley simply wasn’t interested in such things with him.

And it was quite alright, really. They’d still made something of a home together, in each other, even if it wasn’t as intimate as Aziraphale’d hoped. They were still close in ways that no human would ever understand–nor any other angels or demons, for that matter.

They were so close, even the normally inanimate objects around them seemed to have an understanding of the special dynamic between their owners. Like how the shop would so easily let Crowley in without even the need for a demonic miracle, despite it being locked up for the day.

Or, it would have. It usually did, when Crowley came by on days the shop was closed.

On this day, however, it was not Crowley that Aziraphale had heard enter the shop.

It must have taken a minor miracle, because the shop _certainly_ knew better than to let in… Michael, Uriel, and Sandalphon.

Aziraphale’s bright smile dropped as soon as he entered the front of the shop to find the other angels standing in the space between the pillars, each of them with their hands behind their backs and a glare fixed tightly on him.

“We’re closed,” said Aziraphale, shortly. He reached for his own hand, squeezing his fingers lightly in effort to calm himself.

“And now you’re open,” said Uriel. “We have business to discuss. Gabriel wants a word with you.”

“Well, I’ve no interest in having a word with him, quite frankly, and I’d rather you leave this moment.” He tried not to flinch when both Uriel and Michael took a threatening step toward him. “You can’t kill me! You– You _know_ you can’t kill me; you’re wasting time, here. You’ve– You’ve no power over me, not anymore.”

“We may not be able to kill you, no, but we can destroy your life on Earth,” said Michael.

“We can set fire to your shop, for a start,” said Uriel. Behind her, Sandalphon produced a candle from out of nowhere and held it threateningly near a bookshelf, his face twisting into a smile that would make even those with the strongest stomachs feel queasy. “Torch your friend’s car, even. Take away everything that makes your pathetic life worth living down here. Is that what you want? Or will you come with us willingly?”

Well, when they put it that way… Aziraphale wasn’t sure if what awaited him in Heaven would be worse, but he also couldn’t risk any harm coming to his shop, and certainly not to anything of Crowley’s. Though, of course, they were wrong about one thing; he could lose every material thing he owned in the world, and it would still be worth living in, so long as he had Crowley. But he couldn’t expect Crowley to feel the same way, could he? Would Crowley choose him over the Bentley? _Of course he would_ , he assured himself. Oh, but he couldn’t ask that of him, it wouldn’t be fair. After all, perhaps this really was just a chat. He could be back in no time and neither of them need have their lives disrupted.

While he was considering his options, of which there didn’t seem to be many, Sandalphon spoke up, “Hurry it up and make a decision already!”

It was the memory of Sandalphon in Sodom and Gomorrah, ultimately, that led Aziraphale to make his choice. The way the angel had seemed to be delighted by the destruction he’d caused. He simply wouldn’t give him the satisfaction, and _especially_ not with his own shop, nor anything of Crowley’s! Defeated, Aziraphale huffed and dropped his hands to his sides. “Yes, yes, alright. I– I’ll go willingly.” 

Michael put on a sweet (if not chilling) smile. “Come along, now, Aziraphale. Just for a chat.”

And so, Aziraphale allowed himself to be escorted out of his own shop and back to his former Head Office, feeling rather like he had a gun to his back.

The feeling never went away, even as he was prompted to take a seat in the dull, blank space of Heaven. The chair was, predictably, cold and hard, prompting him to shift in it a bit in useless effort to find a comfortable position. The angels seemed content enough to have him sit there unbound; it wasn’t as though he was going to up and leave without having this matter settled, whatever it was.

Michael, Uriel, and Sandalphon stood at a distance, arms behind their backs as they awaited Gabriel’s arrival. He was “in a meeting”, Aziraphale had been told by a haughty Sandalphon. “A very important meeting, about Heavenly things, none of which concern you anymore, as you are a _traitor_.”

It took hardly two minutes for Gabriel to arrive on the scene, but those two minutes felt like an eternity as Aziraphale squirmed uncomfortably under the disdainful gazes of his former colleagues. And, really, had they borrowed that chair from one of Hell’s torture chambers?

Aziraphale let out a sigh of relief at the sight of Gabriel approaching (a reaction to the archangel’s presence that had never happened before, and would likely never happen again). _Finally_. The waiting was over; time to deal with whatever unpleasantries the angels had in store for him.

“Alright,” said Aziraphale, swallowing his anxiety in favor of putting on the bravest, most controlled face he could manage, “now what’s this all about?” He set his hands in his lap and looked up at Gabriel.

Gabriel plastered on a fake smile. “Well, Aziraphale, things haven’t changed much since Armageddon didn’t happen. We’re running just as smoothly as ever, I’m sure you’ll be glad to hear.”

Aziraphale smiled politely. “Quite.”

Gabriel narrowed his eyes at him, dropping his cordial facade. “However,” he said, “we’ve realized we can’t trust our own, unfortunately, thanks to you. So, we’ve created something that we can use to check up on anyone suspicious among our ranks. So far you’re the only one who’s ever actually _been_ suspicious. Which gave us an idea, an opportunity we’re not going to pass up.”

Aziraphale swallowed and squeezed his hands. “Oh?”

“That’s right. See, we’ve grown skeptical of your survival. At first we thought maybe you’d worked out a deal with Hell, that they hadn’t provided actual Hellfire at your execution. We looked into it, and that doesn’t seem to be the case. But, we’re still skeptical. We think you might have pulled some sort of trick to survive, untrustworthy as you’ve proven yourself to be. So,” Gabriel lit up in a bright, wicked smile, “we’re just going to force the truth right out of you.” He turned and signaled to Uriel, who materialized a golden platter into her hand as she came to Gabriel’s side, face tight with the hint of a smirk.

On the platter was a small, silver fork, and a beautifully ripe golden pear, cut into neat little slices. Its juice was forming little puddles around each slice, and Aziraphale couldn’t help but lick his lips at the sight of it.

“We’ve infused this pear with a new creation–a truth serum of sorts,” said Gabriel, earning Aziraphale’s startled gaze. “It’s an idea we’ve borrowed from those humans you’re so fond of. Something that will compel you to tell the truth, whether you want to or not.”

If Aziraphale weren’t so concerned for his and Crowley’s safety, he might’ve laughed. Fruit with consequences? Not exactly original, was it? Then again, he might have known not to expect much from his former superiors. Following was what they’d been created for, it seemed.

While Aziraphale was still musing about the uncreative and, quite frankly, utterly _dull_ nature of angels (and how he’d been so lucky as to find a way out of such a mindless fate), Gabriel stabbed a slice of that wonderfully juicy pear onto the little fork, and shoved it in Aziraphale’s face.

“Eat it,” Gabriel commanded.

Aziraphale huffed a laugh that was more nervous than amused. “I would rather not, thank you.”

“This isn’t a request, Aziraphale, _eat the fruit_.”

“I’m afraid I will still have to decline– er, disobey the order.” Aziraphale refrained from pointing out that he wasn’t prone to following Heaven’s orders anymore, anyway. They’d really no authority over him. But, seeing as he was rather trapped for the moment, he thought it best not to provoke them.

“Would you rather be force-fed? Really, Aziraphale, have some dignity.”

“Maybe he’d rather we torch the shop,” Sandalphon chimed in.

“And all his boyfriend’s things,” added Uriel, her smirk laced with contempt.

Aziraphale swallowed. _Right, that._ He bit his lip as he went over his options. If he refused, he was quite certain that the angels would follow through on their threat to burn down the bookshop, and anything else he and Crowley loved. He wondered if Adam would be willing to restore it all again, or if perhaps he could do so himself. But, then, would they simply come back and do it again, and again, until he did as they demanded? Moreover, could he even stop them from force-feeding him the fruit? He supposed he could miracle himself a different form–one without a mouth, for instance. But the archangels were a bit more powerful than he was, and he was quite sure they could force him to ingest the pear one way or another. So, there really was no way out, as he saw it. He grimaced, gripping his own hand with such force that he felt his nails pierce his skin, and then opened his mouth. Gabriel unceremoniously shoved the fruit in his mouth, and Aziraphale chewed it briefly before swallowing it down.

For what it was worth, it might have been the most exquisite pear he’d ever tasted. Unfortunately, he was a bit too consumed with fear to appreciate it.

Gabriel beamed, stepping back and fixing his posture, his hands clasped in front of his person as he watched Aziraphale expectantly. The other archangels did the same. And so, Aziraphale waited. He waited for the truth serum to take its effect. For his control over his words to loosen, to dissipate entirely. He waited for the inevitable reveal of his and Crowley’s secret switch. He waited to bring himself and his dearest friend to doom.

He waited for several minutes, sweat collecting at his forehead as the time went by. He wrung his hands so hard he might have broken a finger clean off if his corporation had been as frail as an actual human body.

The archangels were growing impatient, and, as another dozen or so minutes went by, Aziraphale began to realize… nothing was happening. The truth serum wasn’t working after all!

“Maybe we have to… ask him first?” Michael suggested.

Gabriel shook his head. “It’s supposed to make him talk on his own. He should be compelled to tell the truth. It should just… spill out of him. Just give it some more time, it… it might take a while.” He didn’t sound so sure. In fact, he sounded rather perplexed. At a loss, even.

Aziraphale, hope rising in his chest, fought off a relieved smirk as he realized he had an opportunity to do something quite devious, that would almost certainly put Heaven, and quite possibly Hell, off their backs forever. Or at least for a few centuries, he hoped. He furrowed his brow, doing his very best imitation of himself in a growing panic, and opened his mouth. “I– I, I– Oh, my, I– I must… I _must_ tell you something, against my better judgement.”

Gabriel’s eyes widened, a hopeful, terrifying smile on his face. “Yes?”

“It’s to do with, a-as you said, the Hellfire. And Crowley’s survival of the Holy Water.” He put a hand over his mouth as if in shock, hiding a little smile, as he was growing quite pleased with himself. “Oh! I, I really shouldn’t say–”

“Tell us, Aziraphale. How did you survive our executions?”

“Well, the thing is, I– I–”

“Yes?” The angels all leaned forward slightly.

“I haven’t the slightest.” Aziraphale put on a frown.

“What.” Gabriel looked absolutely defeated, and, oh, how that warmed Aziraphale’s metaphorical heart.

“I really haven’t the slightest idea how we survived,” he repeated.

“You haven’t– _How_ is that possible?” Gabriel was beginning to lose his usual demeanor, the forced calm replaced by a thinly veiled rage. “You must have come up with some sort of scheme to withstand the most powerful weapon against our kind.”

Aziraphale shook his head. “Oh, no. No schemes. We thought we were going to die, it was really quite tragic.” And that was true, at least in part. The two of them had spent several hours drinking and getting all worked up about their impending doom that night at Crowley’s flat, until Aziraphale had realized what Agnes Nutter’s prophecy meant. “We were… We were convinced that would be the end for us. It was an awfully stressful morning, I’ll tell you. Until we survived, of course.” Aziraphale cleared his throat, then continued. “I do have a few theories, though,” he said, on a roll. “You see, I think that the Almighty has rewarded us for our dedication to Her plan. The Ineffable Plan, that is. A-and I believe She rewarded us by making us immune to any punishments our actions might have incurred from, from… well, from those who are too _foolish_ to see the Truth.”

The archangels’ shock and confusion seemed to take on more of a wary twist, but their hostile glares remained fixed on Aziraphale. Michael looked about ready to bolt… or perhaps she was about to knock Aziraphale to the ground for his audacity to imply that she was “foolish”. Uriel didn’t look much different, staring him down as she crossed her arms over her chest, and Sandalphon’s lips curled in contempt as he adjusted his coat.

Aziraphale gulped. Had he gone too far? Were they buying it at _all_? Was that a bit of fear in Gabriel’s eyes, or simply rage? Aziraphale’s palms began to sweat as he wondered if he’d have been better off keeping his mouth shut entirely. Oh, well. There was no backing out, now, was there? He cleared his throat and did his best to portray confidence as he said, “And, what’s more, I am quite certain, I must say, that we are– Crowley and I, that is– We are quite a bit more powerful than before.” He nodded, as if to assure the angels should they find themselves doubting his bald-faced lie. “I have felt it, er, coursing through me, you know. The power. It’s as though we’re both demon _and_ angel, the two of us. Crowley and I. And so, you see, the more I think of it, I really don’t fear you. Nor Hell. Not anymore. Nor does Crowley. We– We’re rather _above_ you, I should think.” He pursed his lips and nodded, closing his eyes momentarily in effort to quiet his mind, which was screaming at him to stop before he got himself killed. Or worse, got _Crowley_ killed, too.

However, wanting to drive the point home so that he could finally _go_ home, he mustered all his courage and shot a challenging glare at Gabriel. “And if you should like to test it, truthfully I would be quite glad for the opportunity to demonstrate my newfound power, and I do believe Crowley would, too. We’ve no desire to use our abilities to harm any humans, but, well, could anyone blame us for having a bit of a vendetta against our attempted executioners? Crowley _especially_ doesn’t appreciate the attempt on his life. Quite cross about it, really. I’ve had to hold him back from exacting revenge on _numerous_ occasions. ‘We ought to be content,’ I told him. ‘We have each other, and the small-minded, faithless minions of Heaven and Hell really don’t deserve to occupy any space in our minds.’ That’s what I’ve told him.” Aziraphale nodded. Then, satisfied that he’d made his point (and hoping it wasn’t about to cost him his life), he sighed. “I think I would like to go home, now. If you please.”

No one said anything. Gabriel blinked a few times and then gestured toward the exit, indicating that Aziraphale was apparently free to leave. The archangels couldn’t seem to make eye contact with him, but were too shaken to take their eyes off of him entirely. Aziraphale felt a thrill, a sense of pride as he walked himself out of Heaven and back onto the streets of London.

He beamed when he reached the doorstep to his shop, feeling freer than ever before. He’d hardly closed the door behind him before he heard one of his most favorite sounds; Crowley’s voice.

“Angel, that’d better be you.”

Oh. Oh, dear. He sounded rather tense– far past merely concerned, to be specific, and he might even have been approaching distraught, had Aziraphale not arrived in time.

“It’s me,” Aziraphale called after him, frowning as he peered around the shop to locate Crowley.

“Up here.”

Aziraphale looked up to find Crowley descending the stairs from the flat above the shop, sunglasses clutched tightly in hand. While the scene in itself may not have alerted an average onlooker to anything out of the ordinary, it nearly took Aziraphale’s breath away to see the demon there. Because, see, it meant he must have been in his _room_. He’d never been in his room before.

Close as they’d permitted themselves to be over the years, they’d never quite made it upstairs, not even after the averted armageddon. This was partially because Aziraphale feared that he’d be tempted to cross a line, to do or say something that would damage the relationship, and partially because there simply wasn’t a need for it; they had their usual spot in the back of the shop and seemed content to stay there. All that Aziraphale’s bedroom really existed for was more storage for books and other trinkets he’d collected over the centuries. There was a full-length mirror, framed in gold, and a little wardrobe for the attire he just couldn’t seem to be rid of, despite the fact that he wore the same thing every day. And, well, of course, there was the bed. But, save the rare nap or two every few decades, Aziraphale hardly used the thing for its intended purpose. It existed as more of a relaxed reading environment, really. But, if he’d ever had Crowley up there… the sight of the demon sitting on his bed, tracing those long fingers over the seams of the decades-old duvet, perhaps reclining a bit, indenting the decorative pillows, leaving his scent all over the sheets– Anyway, suffice to say, Aziraphale had never invited Crowley up to his bedroom before.

And it wasn’t as though Crowley was ever going to just go up there, himself.

Well, until today, apparently.

“Couldn’t find you,” he said. “Searched the whole shop twice over. Thought you might be upstairs. I apologize for the, er, trespass, I guess.” Crowley heaved a sigh when he reached the foot of the stairs and fixed his eyes on Aziraphale. “You’re late. For our book date thing.”

Aziraphale fought off a blush at Crowley’s choice of words. “Yes, well, you see, I–”

“Thought you’d just gone out at first, but the door was unlocked.Was about to have a panic about it, f’I’m being honest.”

Aziraphale gave a little relieved laugh at that. “Honesty is a bit of a touchy subject today, I’m afraid.”

“Why’s that?”

“Er, well… Earlier I was, er, sort of abducted…” When Crowley’s brows shot up, Aziraphale held up a hand to calm him. “It’s quite alright, clearly; I’ve made it back safely. I handled it. It’s over.”

Crowley sucked in a breath as if to steady himself, but glowered nonetheless. When he spoke, it was slowly, and through his teeth. “ _Who…_ in the _hell_ –”

“It was the archangels,” said Aziraphale, fully expecting the snarl it evoked from his friend. He felt a similar reaction internally, himself, if he were going to be honest. Really, the _audacity_ they’d had! Threatening to burn the things he loved! And the things of _the_ _One_ he loved… Aziraphale cleared his throat and shook his head. It was over, now. No need to dwell on it. “Er, anyway,” he said. “What happened was they took me to Heaven, and, er, gave me a pear that was meant to make me tell the truth, a-and then–”

“Pair of what,” asked Crowley.

“What?”

“They gave you a pair of what?”

Aziraphale blinked plainly at him a few times. _Oh!_ “A _pear_ , Crowley,” he huffed. “The fruit!”

Crowley opened his mouth in an “o” of understanding, gave a short nod, and then his face darkened with trepidation. “Wait, to tell the _truth_?!”

“Oh, er, yes. It was a pear, infused with some sort of, er, serum, I suppose, and they forced me to eat it, and then demanded to know how we survived our executions.” At Crowley’s raised eyebrows and general look of horror, Aziraphale quickly added, “It didn’t work! The fruit, that is. It didn’t– It didn’t work. It never took effect.” He swallowed, then nodded proudly. “But I fooled them, you see,” he smiled, still feeling quite pleased with himself as he giddily proclaimed, “I led them to believe it was working!”

“ _And?_ What did you say?!”

“I told them I hadn’t a _clue_ as to how we survived, but that I was _certain_ that we could do some serious harm to them if tested. That the Almighty was on our side, even.” He gave a quick glance up to the ceiling, silently pleading the Lord not to prove his suspicions wrong.

“And they fell for it?”

“I do believe they did.”

Crowley blinked a few times, then threw back his head in a relieved cackle. “Idiots, the lot of them.” He shoved his hands in his pockets after pressing his glasses back onto his face, and moved to lean against the nearest pillar toward the center of the shop. “I mean, really, they are _so_ stupid. _Absurdly_ stupid,” said Crowley through a grin.

Aziraphale huffed a laugh, turning to keep his gaze on Crowley. “And thank goodness for that. You know, truthfully, I was getting _quite_ nervous up there, for a moment. I thought they’d see through it all and kill me that instant, and then come for you, and, oh!–that would have been a worser fate than my own; knowing I’d provoked them to come after you. Oh, I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself! Though, I suppose it’d have been irrelevant, given I’d have been dead, as well.”

“…Yeah.” Crowley eyed him for a moment, then shook his head. He kicked himself away from the pillar and moved toward the back of the shop. “Anyway, how long d’you think they’ll stay away?”

“Oh, decades, I expect,” said Aziraphale, following closely behind. “At the very least. Well, I hope, anyway.” He sighed. “Er, shall we get on with it? The reading, I mean.”

Crowley waved a hand. “That can wait. S’time for some sort of celebration, after that stunt you pulled up there. For now, we drink, angel.”

About an hour later and a bottle and a half of red between the two of them, an angel and a demon were pleasantly tipsy and practically in each other’s arms on the sofa. 

This wasn’t especially new behavior; as previously mentioned, they’d gotten quite close many times before, when reading. But they _weren’t_ reading, were they? They were simply chatting and drinking, and Aziraphale was sat at one end of the sofa, and Crowley was pressed so closely to his side he could feel each rise and fall of the demon’s chest whenever Crowley remembered that he sometimes liked to breathe. They were reminiscing about old times, staring blankly ahead and only looking to each other every now and then to fix the other with a smirk or a smile or a teasing pout and it was all so _lovely_ and warm and wonderful and Aziraphale could so easily just slide an arm around Crowley and pull him even closer if he wanted to, and, _Lord_ , it was almost too much for him.

Because, of course he _wanted_ to.

But, see, his mind wasn’t lost to alcohol. They hadn’t had _nearly_ enough for him to be able to blame such boldness on intoxication. And even on nights when they _had_ reached such levels of intoxication, Aziraphale was well-practiced enough in his restraint to keep himself from ruining the most important relationship in his life. He knew better. There were things he didn’t do, things he didn’t say, no matter what.

Though, some things couldn’t hurt. Like telling Crowley how good his hair smelled that afternoon. It was practically in his face, anyway; he could hardly be blamed for commenting on it!

“Goodness,” he mumbled to himself during a lull in their conversation.

“Hmm?”

“Your hair. It smells good enough to eat!”

Crowley grimaced, then opened and closed his mouth a few times as though imagining what it’d be like to chew on hair, then grimaced deeper. “S’just a conditioner, angel.”

“Well, what is it? It’s a lovely scent. Different than your usual. Which, of course, is wonderful, as well.”

Crowley huffed a little chuckle. “Didn’t think you noticed stuff like that.”

“What, scents? Crowley, I may not be able to pick out all the components of a scent from the air like you do, but I _do_ have a sense of smell, like anyone else on Earth. Goodness.”

“Not _everyone’s_ got a sense of smell. Some noses don’t work right, y’know.”

“Oh, you know perfectly well what I mean,” Aziraphale huffed, earning a short, teasing cackle from Crowley. “Anyway, what’s the one called that you’ve got in your hair, now?”

“Dunno. I’ve been cycling through ‘em recently. Got a whole collection of, er, samples, over the years. Decided to start using them before they remember they were meant to expire. Think this one was a spiced apple sort of thing.”

“Ah, well, there you have it.” Aziraphale licked his lips. “Apples.” _How tempting,_ he thought, and he had to work _very_ hard not to say that bit aloud. He blinked, clearing his throat, then tilted his head to better look at Crowley. “Samples, you say?”

“Hm?” Crowley met his gaze briefly, then turned his head forward again. “Oh, er, yeah. In the past few decades, whenever I travelled for a temptation, I would steal all the stuff they stock for guests in the hotel bathroom when I left.” Crowley smiled an altogether _too_ proud smile, Aziraphale thought, considering he’d only admitted to doing something that practically every human who had ever stayed in a hotel had done.

Aziraphale frowned. “You know, dear, I don’t think you can call it ‘stealing’ if they _provide_ the items for you, anyway. I think they _expect_ you to use them.”

“Well, _yeah_ , while you’re there. They don’t expect you to take them _home_.”

Aziraphale knit his brows. “…I am entirely unconvinced that that is true. I think they know full well that the guests are going to take them home. After all, it’s not as though they re-use the products for each new guest! Have you ever stayed at a hotel where they’ve left you a half-used bottle of shampoo?”

“Er, no, but–”

“A coin-sized bit of bar soap, flat and perhaps even sharpened around the edges from prior usage?”

“That’s not–”

“With a strand or two of someone else’s hair in it, perhaps? No?”

“Angel–”

“You haven’t, have you?”

Crowley shot him a glare.

“No, I thought not.”

Crowley let out a tiny, defeated growl. “Fine,” he said, “you win.” He folded his arms over his chest and began to lean away toward the other end of the sofa.

“Oh, don’t do that!” Aziraphale’s lips gathered into a pout.

“What?” Crowley froze mid-movement, looking at him with concern, given that the angel had shouted with far more passion than necessary.

“Don’t pull away like that! I was rather enjoying your warmth, you know.” Aziraphale seemed to realize what he was saying as he was saying it, a blush rising on his cheeks as he lowered his voice and quickly added, “It’s a bit chilly in here.” He hoped that made it all sound less awkward, though he was pretty sure it didn’t. Really, what on _Earth_ had made him think it was okay to admit such a thing?! He gulped and fought to maintain a steady breath as Crowley eyed him skeptically.

“Right. Sorry.” He leaned back against the angel. “Didn’t know you _got_ cold.”

“Oh, I don’t,” said Aziraphale simply. Then he remembered he was supposed to be feeling “chilly”. “Er, well, that is, I– I sometimes forget that I don’t _have_ to be affected by the weather.” It was true. In fact, it was even true that it had gotten a bit chilly in the shop, and Aziraphale’s corporation found comfort in the heat coming off of Crowley’s. But that had very little to do with why he wanted the demon so close. Aziraphale found that he had to bite his own tongue to keep from explaining exactly why it was that he wanted Crowley close. And how he wanted him close all of the time, and how he’d like to have him much _closer_ , even. _What on Earth is wrong with me?! You_ must _maintain composure, you– you, you_ stupid _angel!_

Maybe the alcohol really was getting to him. Could his tolerance have gone down? Goodness. Subtly, Aziraphale banished the wine from his system, and swallowed the unpleasant aftertaste that the action always left behind. _There,_ he thought. _I ought to be perfectly sorted, now._

And he was, for a moment. About two and a half minutes, actually. They were quite nice. Very low-stress. The best two and a half minutes he’d had all day. And then Crowley had stretched and taken off his glasses, as he’d been inclined to do whenever the two of them hung out for more than a few hours at a time.

The shades hit the table by the sofa and Aziraphale’s willpower hit an all-time low.

“You know,” he said, despite the very stern, very increasingly panicked voice inside of him that warned him not to, “I always did like your eyes. All that color, like gold. Or the sun. Or honey. Something like that; something wonderful.” He held Crowley’s bare gaze with a smile, taking in that beautiful color until the demon looked away.

Crowley shifted uncomfortably where he sat. “Right. Good.” He flexed his hand in and out of a fist a few times before reaching for the sunglasses and putting them back on without a word.

Aziraphale looked away and felt a rising panic in his chest. “I– I shouldn’t have said that. I’m not sure why I did, to be quite honest. I’m not sure why I’ve said a lot of things today. I thought it was the wine, b-but we hardly drank anything, and anyway I sobered up and now I’ve just said that about your eyes, and I really oughtn’t have. It’s against my rules.”

Crowley whipped his head around to fix Aziraphale with a concerned stare. He eyed him for a moment, then, slowly, cautiously, his voice deep with suspicion, he said, “Tell me something else.”

Aziraphale turned to look at him. “What?”

“Tell me something else. Something honest. Something you don’t think you should say.”

Aziraphale scrunched his face into a confused frown. “Well why on _Earth_ would I _purposefully_ –”

“Of all the angels, who do you hate the most?”

“Oh, that’s easy. Gabriel, obviously. Although, Sandalphon is a close second.” Aziraphale waved a hand. “That’s hardly a secret between us, at this point.”

“Do you _have_ any secrets you’ve kept from me?”

Aziraphale froze. It took no small amount of effort, but he spoke slowly, controlled, choosing his words very carefully. “I… I’m sure that I… neglected to tell you things, in the past… Over the years… Things that I– I thought needed to _be_ a secret, before.”

“So tell me one of those things. Something that was a secret before, that maybe you forgot.”

“Why? It would hardly matter now.” Aziraphale had to bite his tongue and squeeze his own hand to keep from blurting out that he had _another_ secret, a different secret, a long-held and very important secret, a secret about feelings and love and romance and friendship and eternity. Aziraphale felt his tongue bleed a bit in his mouth. He bit it harder to keep from asking Crowley to kiss it better. _Why is this happening?_ Why _is this_ happening _?!_ “Why?!” he asked aloud.

Crowley, luckily, seemed to think Aziraphale’s exclamation was simply an extension of his earlier question. “Because I think– _Eurgghhh_ , angel, alright, look, I– I think…” Crowley looked down, pinched the bridge of his nose, and took a breath. When he looked back at Aziraphale, he spoke cautiously. “Alright, just answer me this: Do you really think that truth pear thing didn’t work at all? Be _honest,_ ” he said pointedly.

Why was he bringing _that_ up?! It didn’t matter! _Nothing_ mattered except this stupid, terrible secret that was threatening to spill from his stupid, terrible lips! Aziraphale gave a little whimper and shifted where he sat, squeezing his hands together tighter.

“Angel.”

“Hm?” Aziraphale tried to hold Crowley’s gaze, but had to look away, because that face just made him want to say things he shouldn’t.

“The serum. Could it have worked?”

“Oh, I– I don’t know… I…” Aziraphale struggled to even maintain focus on what they were discussing. There were so many other things that needed to be said! Why wasn’t he saying them? He should be telling Crowley how wonderful he is! He ought to let him know how kissable his face is, and how often he’s thought about what his skin might taste like. But Crowley seemed concerned about something. What was he concerned about, again? Crowley was always so good at seeing to his wellbeing. He would never let any harm come to him, would he? Aziraphale ought to thank him! So many things to be said. So many _truths_ to be told. Finally, _finally_ to be told. “Crowley, did I ever tell you just how _wonderful_ you–”

“Aziraphale,” said Crowley, calmly, steadily, pulling him back into the moment. “ _Focus_. The serum.”

_Right, yes, that._ He could do this. The serum. Aziraphale shook his head, and frowned when he realized just how far he’d allowed that last little train of thought to take him. He’d nearly spoiled everything! Crowley snapped his fingers a few times near the angel’s face, and Aziraphale blinked and cleared his throat. _Right. Focus._ “I… I don’t _think_ it worked, I– I mean, I was able to lie to the angels!” He gulped. “B-but, then again, since coming back, I– I _have_ been having a hard time, you see, not saying, er, certain things that I…I really oughtn’t say, a-and, the more I’m near you today, the longer you’re here, the more I– I–” Aziraphale’s eyes widened, then he looked up at Crowley in horror. “O-oh, oh dear. _Fuck_.”

Crowley shot him a sympathetic look. “Angel… I don’t think the fruit was ineffective. I think it just took a while to kick in.”

Aziraphale shot up from the sofa, and Crowley stood with him, raising his hands in effort to calm him down. “Fuck,” Aziraphale repeated. “F-fuck. _Fuck_. I– I can feel it getting stronger, Crowley, it’s–”

“Hey, s’fine,” Crowley tried to soothe him. “It’s alright. It’ll wear off soon, probably, and it’ll be fine. We’ve been friends for _millennia_ , angel, there is nothing you could say that would scare me away,” Crowley reassured him, and, _God_ , if that tenderness didn’t just make Aziraphale want to blurt out something stupid, something dangerous, something that would _scare him away_. “You’re stuck with me, angel, and I’m not leaving you here like this after Heaven just came for you. What if they came back?”

Aziraphale was practically shaking, eyes going even wider at the implication that their _lives_ could be at risk on top of everything else. “I should never have let them take me, I should have let them burn the shop, I should have–”

“Hey, _no_ , don’t say that,” said Crowley, visibly tense at the mention of burning bookshops. “You handled it well, angel, you did fine.”

“I’m going to ruin everything,” said Aziraphale, his voice reduced to a wobbly whimper.

“You’re not.” Crowley grabbed him by the arms and urged him to meet his gaze. “Listen, calm down. Aziraphale. Listen to me. Look at me.”

“I can’t, I’ll _say_ something, I–” Aziraphale began hyperventilating, holding so much back it made him tremble in Crowley’s grasp. Lord, his hands were such a comfort. A small comfort amidst the storm of chaos Aziraphale was currently experiencing, but he felt it nonetheless. And it made everything _worse_. He let out a sob and stepped back, out of Crowley’s reach.

“Angel. Calm down. Listen, don’t worry about Heaven, I doubt they’ll come here. But I’m staying here, just in case, alright? It’ll probably be fine, anyway, and we’ll just– Y’know, we’ll just wait for it to wear off. We can even tape your mouth shut if you’re worried about it,” he chuckled. “Or maybe you could just read me that book, and then you’ll be too distracted to say anything embar–”

“No!” Aziraphale’s distressed shout cut Crowley off and took the both of them by surprise. “No, you– You _have_ to leave, _now,_ before I– I’m going to–” Aziraphale whimpered as he realized he was about to lose everything dear to him and have only himself to blame. He nearly lost his balance where he stood, prompting Crowley to reach a hand out to steady him. Aziraphale wouldn’t even look at him as he batted his hand away. “Crowley, I can’t stop myself, I’m _sorry_ , I’m going to ruin it all, I can’t help it, it’s too powerful a-and I– I’m going to ruin _everything_ and I, I, I can’t lose you, Crowley, you’re so dear to me, so much dearer than anything in the world.” He looked up at a deeply concerned and utterly confused Crowley to plead with him one last time. He reached forward despite himself and clenched his fists in the lapels of the demon’s coat, clinging to him so hard his knuckles went white as he tried to push him toward the door. Crowley staggered back a bit but was too busy frowning at Aziraphale to move.

“P-please go, _please_ go,” cried Aziraphale. “ _Please_ , Crowley! Before I tell you I– I– Oh, f-fuck… _I love you,_ ” it came out in a whimper, a broken cry, and tears began streaming down the angel’s cheeks. His arms fell from Crowley’s coat to his sides, his entire corporation going weak as his knees began to wobble. “Oh,” he said mournfully, “oh, oh no, I– N-no, I didn’t mean to– I couldn’t help it, I _can’t_ help it, I _love_ you, _f-fuck_ , I _love_ you.” He fell to his knees, hitting the ground roughly at Crowley’s feet. “I love you, I’m _sorry,_ I love you.”


	2. Chapter 2

Crowley took a deep breath. Then another. And another. Aziraphale continued to sob on the floor. Why was he so damned _distressed_ about the whole thing? Crowley stared at him and considered reaching out to comfort him, but was still processing the angel’s great reveal.

“You…,” began Crowley when he finally felt like he could speak without his voice breaking. Whatever Aziraphale was freaking out about, he wasn’t going to make it worse by echoing that emotion. “You love me?”

“Yes,” sobbed Aziraphale. “I– I’ve just said it, haven’t I? A-and I can’t take it back, and I wouldn’t even if I could, because I love you so _dearly_ , Crowley, I can’t bear to lie to you anymore. There are so many– so many things I feel for you, so many things I want, a-and I, I– Crowley, please, go, I– I’m only going to make this worse.”

“I– _Worse_?! How the Heaven could it be _worse_?!”

“Yes, _worse_!” Aziraphale was all but wailing by this point, entirely inconsolable on the floor. “As if it isn’t bad enough that I love you, as if it isn’t– I– It’s not just the way that I love everything else, it’s n-not just because I’m an angel and loving is my _job_ , it’s– It’s _worse_ than that, with you, Crowley, it’s– I– I want to hold you and hug you and kiss and touch and– and, a-and I want to call you _mine_ , to, to make it known that we belong to one another, t-to, to dance slowly with you, even without music, to– to rest my head on your shoulder and feel your arm around my waist a-and, Crowley, I want to– Why– _Why_ do I– Why do I want to do such _human_ things with you?!”

Crowley’s eyes darted around the bookshop filled with many of what were arguably _human_ things, and fought off a smirk. “Angel–”

“Don’t you understand what I’m saying? I am _in love_ with you, Crowley!”

“Angel, it’s alright. Get up, come on, get back up,” said Crowley, gathering Aziraphale up from the floor and helping him to his chair. “There we are. See? S’alright. Sit down. You’re alright.” He took off his sunglasses again, setting them on Aziraphale’s desk before putting his hands on the angel’s shoulders and fixing him with a sincere look. “Hey, hey look at me. Calm down. It’s alright.”

“B-but it’s _not_ alright,” wailed Aziraphale, eyes too blurred by his own tears to really meet Crowley’s gaze. “I _know_ it isn’t, I know I’ve ruined everything for us! I– I know it’s awful and just so, so _shameful_ of me, to– to love someone like you, who can’t– I can’t– It’s _pathetic_ , really, I _know_ this, Crowley, I _know_ , a-and now you’ll resent me, I know, because of my shameful feelings, my– my _relentless_ love, no matter how I’ve tried to hold it back, I can’t– I– I’m sorry, I’m just so _sorry_ for it!”

It was silent between them for a moment as Crowley’s hands fell from Aziraphale’s shoulders. He blinked at him.

“You’re… sorry for it?” Crowley sent whatever fractured piece of faith he had left in him up to Someone, _Anyone_ , that the sinking feeling he had in the pit of his being was unfounded. That it was a misunderstanding. It _had_ to be. “Sh– Shameful? You think it’s _shameful_?”

“Yes! _Terribly!_ After all this time, and you– You’re a _demon_ , and I should _never_ have let myself– I– I’m sorry, I– I would take it away if I could, Crowley, if, if I could… I would rid myself of these feelings, this pathetic, shameful–”

Crowley crumbled to the ground, cutting the angel off with a burst of a sob as he felt the weight of Aziraphale’s words punch through his chest. _Shameful_. The word hit him like a brick. And it just kept coming out, kept tumbling from the angel’s lips as he resumed his apology, his deep _shame_ for loving Crowley, for loving a _demon_. Crowley couldn’t take anymore, his hand flying out to cover Aziraphale’s mouth as he pleaded with him, “Stop, _stop_ , don’t– Don’t say that. How can you say that?!”

Aziraphale stopped trying to speak, looking back at Crowley with wide eyes.

Crowley’s voice was utterly anguished, his eyes wet and lip trembling as he spoke. “Angel,” he said, the word catching in his throat, burning like he was no longer worthy of its holiness. Is that what Aziraphale thought? That he wasn’t _worthy_ of him, that it was shameful for him, an angel, to love something so below him? After all this time, did it really still come down to that? How had he _missed_ that?

Another broken sob left his lips, his fingers trembling against Aziraphale’s startled mouth. “Aziraphale, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me. I can’t listen to this. I, I can’t hear you say that, that–” Crowley had to pause to catch his breath; he was beginning to hyperventilate. “I, I can’t hear you tell me how shameful it is for you to love me. I, I thought we– I thought we were on our own side, I thought we’d– I thought you’d grown to think of me as an equal, a-as more than j-just a demon, I– I can’t– You’ve just told me you love me back, _finally_ , after– after all this time, you– you confirm that I’m not alone in this, that I haven’t been going mad, you finally say you love me _back_ , that you would hold me, kiss me, call me _yours_ , finally, _yours_ , a-and _immediately_ you tell me you _regret_ it? Th-that you’d take it away from me if you could?! You– You _can’t_ tell me that, you can’t– You’re all I have, you can’t take that love away from me, you can’t take it back, you _can’t_ –”

Aziraphale began to urge words against Crowley’s hand, his eyes wide and pouring out tears. He tried to shake his head as the muffled sounds of a desperately repeated, “ _I love you, I love you, I love you,_ ” warmed Crowley’s palm.

Crowley pulled his hand away, shaking, hoping he hadn’t misinterpreted those muffled words.

“I _love_ you! Oh, Crowley, I _love_ you! I don’t regret it! I don’t! I– Oh, Crowley!” Aziraphale fell forward and pulled Crowley against him, burying his face in the crook of his neck. The angel kissed the side of his jaw, his chin, his cheek, then pulled back to say to a very bewildered Crowley, “You misunderstood me, oh, my _dear_ , I– I’m not ashamed to love _you_! I’m not ashamed of what you are, of _who_ you are. We _are_ on our own side. We define ourselves, don’t we? Darling, I was ashamed because I thought you didn’t feel the same way! I thought it was pathetic of me to feel the way I do, when I believed you didn’t love me back, at least not in the way I love you.”

Crowley frowned quizzically at him. Just as he was opening his mouth to ask how he could _possibly_ not have seen it, Aziraphale continued.

“I thought perhaps you _couldn’t_ , th-that you cared for me and enjoyed my company, but that you weren’t inclined to such a human interpretation of love. Of _romance_. Or that… That perhaps you couldn’t love at all. That being Fallen might have cut you off from the ability to truly _love_ – Oh, but I see how foolish that is now, Crowley, I see how it was only my fear, my insecurity, and my indoctrination from Heaven, blinding me to the love that has emanated from you for millennia.” He ran a finger down Crowley’s cheek and across his jaw, his gaze flitting about the demon’s face with wonder, as though he were taking it in for the first time. “And it’s always been there, hasn’t it? _You’ve_ always been there, loving me so steadily, so wonderfully, respecting my concerns, my frustratingly slow pace… You… You love me so well, Crowley. Thank you. Thank y– _mmph!_ ”

Crowley cut the angel off with a kiss, surging forward and finally, _finally_ crashing their lips together. He felt a small noise rise and die in his throat; an urge to speak the words “I love you” before the realization that his mouth was already communicating such sentiments without sound.

Aziraphale, who’d frozen still when Crowley’s lips had first touched his, breathed a small, “Oh,” before melting into the closeness. Soon he had one hand in Crowley’s hair and the other on his neck, drawing him even closer as the demon crawled onto his lap. The chair wasn’t exactly accommodating, so before Crowley had even settled between Aziraphale’s thighs, the angel stood, lifting Crowley as he did, and moved them to the sofa. Crowley let out a breath when his back hit the end of the sofa, and his body was immediately covered by Aziraphale’s, soft and warm and holding him tightly as though he would never let go. Their lips met again and it was just as thrilling, just as utterly _vital_ as the first time.

This was… Oh, this was Heaven. Or what Heaven _should_ have been, anyway. The supposed “love” and “eternal bliss” that Crowley had been cast away from all that time ago… it was all here, with Aziraphale. Even better than anything he remembered feeling before his fall. And he could _have_ it. He was _allowed_. Apparently, he was even _worthy_ of it, and Aziraphale wanted to give it to him, shamelessly, and Crowley was still trying to wrap his head around the emotional rollercoaster he’d just been on.

He quickly decided, however, that processing the events that had just unfolded mattered significantly less than participating in the events that were _currently_ unfolding, as Aziraphale began teasing his tongue between Crowley’s lips, asking for a deeper taste of him. That– _that_ , Crowley decided, demanded his _full_ attention. He made a small noise in the back of his throat and parted his lips, welcoming Aziraphale in and reveling in every shared breath between the two of them.

Aziraphale moaned and licked into his mouth, hands roaming from Crowley’s coat to his neck and hair and back down and all over again before he gave an overwhelmed little huff and settled on fisting one hand in Crowley’s hair and the other in the lapel of his coat.

“I love you,” said Crowley between kisses, not because he thought Aziraphale didn’t know, by this point, but because he was beginning to feel that the words would consume him like a fire from the inside if he didn’t get them out. “I love you, angel, I love you, I love you.”

Aziraphale exhaled and let his head come to rest on Crowley’s shoulder. “And I, you,” he murmured against the sensitive skin of the demon’s neck. “So dearly, Crowley.” He raised his torso, holding himself up on his elbows so he could fix Crowley with an adoring gaze. “So incredibly dearly. You’re so precious to me. The thing I hold most dear, closest to my heart. Vital to the very essence of my being, that’s what you are.”

Crowley sniffed, then forced a little coughing sound and sputtered a bit before mumbling, “Can’t beat that.”

Aziraphale looked down at him with the fondest of smiles, brushing a bit of hair away from the demon’s forehead. “I don’t recall entering a competition,” he mused, dropping his hand to trace along the side of Crowley’s face. He leaned down to press another kiss to his lips. “And anyway, you’ve always been more inclined to prove your feelings through actions, haven’t you?”

Crowley was going to respond, but then Aziraphale put his mouth on the spot just below his left ear and sucked, and then all Crowley could really do was moan, because the next thing Aziraphale did was nip at his earlobe while simultaneously tracing a finger down Crowley’s neck, along his side, and over his hip. The angel’s hand came to pause at the waistline of Crowley’s jeans, and he pulled back to fix him with a meaningful stare.

“If you’re intent on communicating your love for me,” he said, “might I suggest we move somewhere a bit more comfortable?” Aziraphale chewed at his lower lip for a moment before adding, with almost a whimper to his voice, “Truthfully, I’d really like to get you out of these clothes… And into my bed.”

Well, _fuck_. Crowley certainly wasn’t going to say “no” to _that_. However, he was still finding it difficult to speak, worked up as he was, so he simply nodded, then nodded harder and faster and all but kicked himself off the sofa, startling the angel who’d been hovering over him. “Upstairs?”

“Er, yes!” Aziraphale’s eyes were wide from the sudden movement, but he was quick to smirk at the demon’s eagerness. “Yes, _please_.”

Crowley gave a short nod before grabbing Aziraphale’s hand and pulling him toward the stairs. “Bedroom?”

Aziraphale gave an affirmative hum, low and deep in his throat, then licked his lips. “Bedroom.”


	3. Chapter 3

They’d hardly entered the room before Aziraphale was throwing Crowley onto the bed and climbing on top of him, kissing him thoroughly as his hands ran down the demon’s sides. Crowley, for his part, merely gasped, then moaned, and then lay there rather uselessly for a bit while Aziraphale’s hands roamed his body and he kissed from Crowley’s lips down to his neck. It wasn’t until Aziraphale started sucking on the spot where neck met shoulder that Crowley’s brain caught up with him and informed him that he could, in fact, move, too.

He lifted his arms and cautiously placed them on Aziraphale’s back.

Aziraphale purred at the touch and mouthed a bit more openly at Crowley’s neck. “Mm, touch– _Touch_ me.”

Crowley gathered himself enough to chuckle. “Where do you want me to touch you, sweetheart?”

“Anywhere. Everywhere. I want– I, I want your hands roaming my skin, a-and your mouth on my neck and shoulders and, and back on my mouth again, a-and your tongue, too, I, I want to taste your tongue again, it was so wonderful, so– What?” Aziraphale frowned as Crowley gently pushed him away with a concerned look.

“You’re still under the influence. That fruit thing. Forgot.”

Aziraphale blinked. “O-oh, yes, I– I suppose I am. But that’s alright! I, I want to touch you, darling, I– I want to be touched. Please. I cannot wait any longer, it’s been too long already, s-so if you want, i-if _you_ want to make love, Crowley, _please_ , let’s make love.”

Crowley looked hesitant. Aziraphale huffed.

“I’m influenced to tell the _truth_ , Crowley, not to do anything I wouldn’t otherwise do. My consent is not at risk, if that’s what’s worrying you. I assure you, my consent is only amplified by this. I– I want what I want, and I’m going to make certain you _know_ what I want.” Aziraphale sat up on Crowley’s legs, then trailed a lazy hand down the demon’s chest. “And what I want, undeniably–and through no outside influence, mind–is _you_.” He brought his hand back to himself, then, and worried at his lower lip. “If– If you’re interested in that sort of thing, I mean. Sex, that is. With me.”

Crowley huffed a laugh. “I’m _interested_ , angel, believe me.”

Aziraphale gave a low hum. “Yes,” he said, regaining confidence as he dropped his hand back down to Crowley’s stomach and let it drift lower, lower, until it was teasing over the noticeable bulge between the demon’s legs. “I thought you might be.”

“Oh, you noticed that, did you?”

“Bit hard not to, with our bodies pressed so closely together.” Aziraphale bit his lip and whimpered impatiently. “Crowley, please! I want– I want to taste you. Would you let me pleasure you with my mouth?”

Crowley swallowed around a whine and nodded. “Yeah. Fuck, angel, _yes_. Yes. I want that. _Of course_ I want that.”

Aziraphale responded by cupping Crowley’s cock through his jeans and uttering a sweet, “Thank you.”

“Nng, fuck, yeah, sure, angel, just–”

“Yes?”

Crowley whimpered. “Don’t tease?”

“Is that a question?” Aziraphale smirked. “You know, I’ve wanted to do this for some time. And, well, I’ve always liked the idea of making you wait, until you’re desperate and moaning, begging for my hands, my mouth, my cunt or cock, anything… Mm, yes, I think I should like to see you in such a state.”

A desperate whimper escaped Crowley’s lips, and he hoped it’d be enough to convince the angel to make good on his word. “Just– Please,” he breathed, lifting his hips to brush his cock against Aziraphale’s hand. “Please.”

Aziraphale let out a desperate noise of his own, teasing forgotten as he snapped Crowley out of his clothes with a miracle and quickly repositioned himself and dove his head down to mouth at the demon’s thigh. He closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of him, then opened them to take in the sight of his hard, leaking cock. “It’s beautiful,” he couldn’t help but say. “You’re _beautiful_ , Crowley. I can’t wait to taste you, to feel your cock throbbing between my lips, a-and pulsing your seed down my throat. F-fuck.” He lifted his head and looked at Crowley somewhat sheepishly. “I, er– I apologize if that was a bit too, er–”

Crowley cut him off with an amused chuckle.

“What?” Aziraphale asked, defensively.

“You just confidently and unashamedly told me that you would be telling me exactly what it was that you wanted throughout all this, and then the moment something truly obscene slips from your lips you have the audacity to act embarrassed about it.” Crowley sat up and urged Aziraphale to meet him halfway, then gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek. “Say whatever you’re feeling, angel, tell me what you want. _Believe me_ , I want to hear it. You’ve no idea what it does to me, hearing you talk like that. Unfiltered. Not worried about what you _should_ or _shouldn’t_ say. You’re safe with me, angel.” Crowley grinned like a bastard. “I won’t tell anyone you want to taste my–” he chuckled, “m-my ‘seed’.”

Aziraphale “tsk”ed, but couldn’t help the shy smile that overtook his face, nor the subsequent moan as he thought about finally getting a taste of Crowley’s release. “I’d really like to get back to what I was doing, now,” he admitted, rather urgently. “If you’re done teasing me, that is.”

“Call us even. For earlier.”

“Oh, please, I hardly teased you. And anyway, that’s a different sort of teasing, isn’t it? It’s more fun.”

“Fun for you, maybe,” said Crowley. “Feel’s like my cock’s going to explode if it goes untouched for much longer.”

“Oh, you poor dear,” said Aziraphale, teasingly. At Crowley’s whimper, Aziraphale let out a small giggle and said, “Alright, alright.” Then he sighed, and looked down at Crowley’s neglected cock. He licked his lips as he found himself suddenly unable to focus on anything else. Crowley watched him with bated breath as Aziraphale slowly lowered his head back down to Crowley’s cock, pressed a kiss to it, and then, finally, took the head between his lips.

Involuntarily, Aziraphale’s eyes rolled back a bit, lids fluttering closed as he moaned around the taste of him. Crowley sucked in a breath, his hands flying to grasp at blonde hair. Aziraphale moaned again at the sensation of having his hair tugged, releasing Crowley’s cock for just a moment to say, “I liked that. Please do feel free to do it again.” He gave his lover’s cock a few light sucks, then couldn’t help but pull back again and tell Crowley how “utterly delicious” he tasted, and how happy he was to finally be allowed a taste.

“F-fuck. Fuck, angel, I’m– If you keep saying things like that, I’m going to come.”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened, then he released Crowley from his mouth with an obscene little _pop_. “Oh, I like that idea. You’re getting all worked up because of something I said? And what I’m doing, of course.” There was a twinkle in his eyes as he said, “Sucking your cock, I mean. And talking about it. Singing its praises, as it were.” He chewed his lower lip. “Goodness, it’s quite difficult to find a, er, a balance between saying all these things and, and having you in my mouth. I’m afraid I’ve left it unattended for far too long. I’m so terribly hungry for your cock, dear. The taste, the feeling– the weight of it, on my tongue, I– Well, it’s more pleasure than I ever expected to feel, if I were to be honest.” He chuckled to himself. “And I suppose I _must_ be, at the moment.” 

Crowley fisted his hands in the sheets and steadied his breath. “Aziraphale…”

“Oh, you– You aren’t going to come untouched, are you? Oh, I would be delighted to explore that possibility with you.” Aziraphale cleared his throat. “But, at a later time. Right now I simply _must_ have you in my mouth again.” He gave another small chuckle. “Goodness, just listen to me–I can’t seem to stop talking! Perhaps you ought to gag me.”

Aziraphale, the bastard, _winked_ at Crowley, then returned his mouth to the demon’s cock and swirled his tongue around it before suckling on it as though he were trying to get something out of it. He was quickly successful, as it turned out, because just a few of those passionate little sucks and Crowley was grasping Aziraphale’s hair, moaning his name, and coming down his throat.

The groan Aziraphale let out as Crowley’s come coated his tongue and throat only encouraged the demon to come harder, giving the angel his fill. Aziraphale whined around his cock, as though he were nearing the edge, himself. He gave a few more sucks before Crowley tugged on his hair, a silent plea for him to let up. Aziraphale released his cock and pressed a reverent kiss to the tip of it before eagerly climbing back up the bed to kiss Crowley’s lips. The demon was still catching his breath and sucked in a sharp one when their mouths met, then moaned at the taste of himself on Aziraphale’s tongue.

“S’my turn,” he mumbled against the angel’s lips after a few slow, deep kisses. “Wanna make you come.”

Aziraphale gave a low whimper, then nodded eagerly. “I– I’m so desperate for you, Crowley, I– It’s been so difficult, all this, this, arousal, a-and nowhere for it to go.”

Crowley knit his brows. “Nowhere for it to go?”

Aziraphale hummed, then took Crowley’s hand and guided it down, slipping it under the fabric of his trousers, into his pants, where there was nothing but warm, smooth skin between his legs.

“You– You haven’t got anything?”

“Well, not at the moment. Not yet, anyway.”

Crowley gave a surprised little “huh”, earning a frown from Aziraphale.

“What?”

“Nothing, just. Hedonistic as you are, I always thought you’d, you know,” Crowley gestured vaguely with the hand that wasn’t currently shoved down Aziraphale’s pants, “indulge.”

“Hrm, yes, well, I have. I _do_. But, in recent months, I’ve started going without any genitals, whenever I was in your presence. I didn’t want to, er, get aroused in front of you.” Aziraphale blushed. “As you may recall, I thought I was alone in those feelings, and I didn’t want to ruin anything between us.”

“So you just. Banished your cock.”

“Cunt, usually. But yes.”

Crowley cocked a brow and licked his lips. “And where is your cunt now?”

Aziraphale bit his lip to stifle a groan. “I’m sure it isn’t too far away.”

“No,” said Crowley, lowly, as he began to rub at the soft skin between Aziraphale’s legs, “I’m sure it isn’t.”

Aziraphale whined and clutched at Crowley’s shoulder with one hand, and with the other he held the hand that Crowley was currently using to coax his cunt out of hiding. With a shaky breath, Aziraphale allowed his sex to form–soft, smooth folds taking shape beneath Crowley’s slender fingers. He huffed warm breath against Crowley’s neck, brows drawn tightly as he focused on the new sensation of Crowley’s fingers petting his pussy.

“Fuck, angel, you’re already so wet.”

“I– _Ooh_ – I, I always was, when you were around.” Aziraphale swallowed, still clinging to Crowley, bringing his other hand up and out of his pants in favor of grasping at Crowley’s other shoulder while the demon continued to tease at his labia. “It’s why I h-had to keep it away from you. I– I always worried you would know… W-what you do to me… _Oh_ , f- _fuck_.”

Crowley smirked, dipping his middle finger in and out of Aziraphale’s cunt, just to the first knuckle, rubbing little circles around the sensitive skin of his entrance each time he pulled out. “Mm. S’a valid concern. I could smell the lusssst coming off of you, like this. Even through your clothes.” He shifted, slightly, and breathed a puff of air before suggesting, “Speaking of, how about we get you out of these, yeah?”

In a blink, Aziraphale was naked. He buried his head in Crowley’s neck, whimpering at the sudden chill and that electric feeling of being entirely unclothed in the arms of his best friend.

“Impatient,” Crowley managed to say, despite the fact that Aziraphale’s little miracle of nudity had nearly taken the breath right out of him, what with all that skin suddenly pressed against his own naked body.

“ _Please_ , please keep touching me. It feels so good, Crowley, it’s so– It’s _so_ good.” Aziraphale writhed a bit, rubbing his body against Crowley’s, delighting in the sensation of skin on skin, and that indescribable, almost _spiritual_ emotion that comes with being pressed as closely as their corporations would allow. He clung to Crowley’s shoulders a bit tighter as his breath grew labored against his neck. Crowley’s finger dipped in and out of him slowly, carefully, then he dragged the angel’s wetness out of his pussy and back up to his clit, circling the fat little nub a few times before repeating the cycle.

“So wet,” murmured Crowley, turning his head to press a kiss to Aziraphale’s temple. “So warm and hot and wet and–”

“Crowley!” Aziraphale had all but growled, prompting Crowley to pause his movements altogether and turn his head to give Aziraphale a concerned look. “I– F-fuck, I– Take me,” said the angel. “I, I want you inside of me, right this moment.” He cleared his throat and lifted his head, fixing his lover with a polite smile. “If you please.”

Crowley gaped at him a moment, then put on a mimicking tone when he said, “‘If you please’. _Puh_ – ‘If I please.’ What the _hell_ kind of– Of _course_ I please, you–”

“A-and then, if you don’t mind,” Aziraphale continued, “I think I’d like to have a go at giving _you_ a rather thorough pounding. Once you’ve had your way with me, that is. A-and as you’re, er, well, _fucking_ me, I want– Well, when you come, that is, I want you to do it inside of me. I want to be full of you, of your pleasure, your seed. I want to feel it warming me from the inside, coating the walls of my cunt. A-and _then_ I’ll grow a cock for myself and, and fuck you.” He swallowed, looking at Crowley with an expression that was both incredibly heavy with need and entirely too innocent for the filth he’d just uttered. “Is that alright?”

Crowley opened and closed his mouth a few times before groaning out, “I– Nnhg, yeah, that– That sounds good, yeah. Alright.”

“Right. So…” Aziraphale tapped Crowley on his waist, urging him to get up as the angel moved to lie on his back. “On with it, then?”

Crowley smirked, rolling over so that he was on top of Aziraphale. “Impatient bastard, aren’t you?”

“Mm. Quite. I’ve waited long enough, I think,” said Aziraphale. “We both have.” The angel’s lower lip wobbled a bit as he said, remorse in his voice, “I– I’m so sorry, Crowley, for not being brave enough, f-for not–”

“Hush,” said Crowley. “S’alright. We’re here now, yeah? We made it.” He leaned down to kiss the corner of Aziraphale’s mouth, then moved to his neck, sucking a little purple bruise onto it before pulling back. “Stay here with me, angel. Stay here, right now.”

Aziraphale worried at his lower lip, then sucked in a sharp breath and moaned when Crowley resumed rubbing at the most sensitive part of him.

“We’re here, now. And, I don’t know about you, but I’d much rather be here,” Crowley paused to rub at Aziraphale’s clit, pointedly, “doing _this_ , than regretting anything about the past.”

Aziraphale whimpered when Crowley slipped two fingers inside of him, and nodded aggressively. “Yes, y-yes, I– I do believe you’re right.”

Crowley grunted in agreement, then took a deep breath and lightly slapped Aziraphale’s pussy with his cock a few times, looking down at him with a quirked brow and eliciting a giggle from the angel. Then he looked down at that perfect, slick cunt, and pressed between the labia, groaning as he felt the angel stretch around him, welcoming him in with hardly any effort at all.

“ _Oh, Crowley_ …,” said Aziraphale, his voice caught somewhere between a sigh and a moan. “Mmmm, mmfuck, mmmmm, _fuck_.”

Crowley released a slow, shaky breath, closing his eyes as he tried to adjust to the intense sensation, especially after having orgasmed so recently. Being the non-human entity that he was, refractory periods were rather optional, but that didn’t make it much less overwhelming.

Aziraphale, however, hadn’t come in Who-Knows-How-Long, and so wiggled his hips a bit and reached for Crowley’s forearms, urging him to move. “Please, _please_.”

Not one to leave his angel begging, Crowley nodded, clasped Aziraphale’s hands in his, and started moving, thrusting shallowly into him at an easy pace. “ _Angel_ ,” he breathed. “Aziraphale… Fuck, I– I love you. I love you.”

“Oh, I love you, too, Crowley, I– Oh, Crowley, ohhh, mmm.” Aziraphale closed his eyes, the smallest of tears leaking from the corners as he raised his hips just a bit to meet Crowley’s gentle movement. “ _Ah– mm–_ It feels so– I feel so full, so close to you, darling, s-so– _Fuck_. Fuck.” He bit his lip, squeezing his eyes tighter shut as he focused on all the sensations delighting his corporation.

“Good?” asked Crowley, mesmerized in a world of pleasure, himself.

Aziraphale nodded aggressively. “V-very good.” He tightened his grip on Crowley’s hands and opened his eyes to look back at him, groaning when their gazes met. “I– I want… I need…”

“Tell me, angel. Tell me how to make you feel good,” said Crowley, sounding almost as desperate to please Aziraphale as Aziraphale was to _be_ pleased. Perhaps more. “I want to make you feel good.”

“I want you to– To really _fuck_ me,” said Aziraphale, a quiet, surprised little, “Oh, my,” following his own admission.

Crowley gave a fond laugh at the angel’s reaction to his own bluntness, and picked up the pace at which he was thrusting into him.

Aziraphale’s groan turned into a whimper, and then he began to plead, “More, more! _Mmmfuck_ , yes, please, _more_!”

Crowley thrust a bit faster, but still found himself holding back. This was his _angel_ ; he didn’t want to go splitting him in two in the middle of their first time. Aziraphale writhed in pleasure and desperation beneath him, moaning, _begging_ , his cunt growing impossibly more wet with each thrust.

“More, please, I– I’m not going to _break_. Please, Crowley, fuck– _Fuck_ me, please. _Please_.”

The little growl that fought its way out of Crowley’s throat couldn’t be stopped, and then he was snapping his hips against plush thighs, one hand slipping from Aziraphale’s own and onto the angel’s hip. He gripped him tightly and started fucking him like their lives depended on it. 

“Oh, _God_ , y-yes. Harder, Crowley. Deeper.” Aziraphale reached for Crowley, urging him to lower his chest until they were pressed against one another. He whimpered when their skin met, and wrapped his arms around the demon as Crowley’s hands roamed his sides, searching for the right place to hold.

Crowley settled for cradling the back of Aziraphale’s neck with one hand and reaching the other between their bodies to rub at the angel’s clit, doing his best to fuck him into the mattress all the while.

“ _Fuck!_ Fuck,” said Aziraphale, hands grasping aimlessly at Crowley’s back, his nails scratching the demon’s skin and leaving raised, pink trails in their wake. Crowley groaned through his teeth, hissing a bit at the pleasurable sting. “Crowley,” Aziraphale whimpered, “Crowley. Crowley.”

He had nothing to say, really, but he could say nothing else. He dissolved into an almost trance-like state of repeating Crowley’s name, groaning between every few utterances, and, when Crowley’s cock hit just the right spot, occasionally shouting, “ _Oh!_ ”

“Fuck, angel, I’m– I’m gonna come again,” said Crowley, rubbing more fervently at the angel’s clit. “Are you close?”

Aziraphale could do little more than nod enthusiastically, his eyes squeezed shut and lips thin as he focused on the pleasure threatening to overtake his body. He had to hold it off. He wanted Crowley to come inside of him first.

“Come for me, angel, come–”

Aziraphale shook his head and opened his eyes to look up at Crowley. “You first. P-please, I– I want your come already in my body when I orgasm. Please. Please.”

Well, that did it. Crowley’s breathing grew more and more erratic until finally he came with a sob, his head dropping to Aziraphale’s shoulder as he fucked his release into his angel’s pussy.

Aziraphale whimpered at the sensation, and came soon after, squirting on Crowley’s cock as he repeated, “I love you, I love you, Crowley, I love you, I love you, I love you, oh, _oh,_ mmm.” Crowley fucked him through his orgasm and continued to rub at his clit even as he stopped thrusting into him. “Mmph, Crowley, I–” Aziraphale took Crowley’s hand in his and guided it away from his overstimulated clit.

“Sorry,” Crowley mumbled.

“Oh, don’t apologize, dear, I– Goodness. I didn’t know an orgasm could be so powerful.” Aziraphale heaved a deep, happy sigh and looked up at Crowley with a gaze that was just _brimming_ with love. “ _Thank_ you.”

“Thank me? Thank _you_.”

They both took a few more minutes to catch their breath, sighing into each other’s necks and absently petting each other’s sweat-slick skin.

“That was _lovely_ ,” said Aziraphale.

“Mm,” agreed Crowley.

“You made me feel so good, Crowley, so– So wonderful. Indescribable, really.”

“Could say the same of you,” Crowley murmured against his skin. “I could spend eternity inside of you like this. Don’t even have to be fucking you, I just– Just want to be this close to you, always.”

“Oh, _darling_ ,” said Aziraphale, brightly. “Oh, my dear. I feel the same.” He ran his hands down the sides of Crowley’s arms, then cleared his throat. “However, I do believe it’s _my_ turn.”

Crowley groaned. “Don’t think I can take another orgasm, angel. I mean, I can make it happen, s’just– Sensitive.”

“Well, not if you swap.”

Crowley lifted his head to quirk an inquisitive brow.

“Genitals,” Aziraphale clarified. “So that I can fuck you, dear. I could take you from behind, of course, but if your cock needs a break, a newly manifested clitoris should have no trouble giving you another orgasm.”

Crowley made a strangled noise and let his head fall back to Aziraphale’s shoulder with a groan.

“Unless that’s not to your preference, of course.”

Crowley shook his head lazily, tickling Aziraphale’s neck and chin. “Don’t have a preference. I’ll– _Hnng_ , uh, yeah, I’ll– I’ll swap.”

“Oh, good,” said Aziraphale brightly. “I’ve been imagining this for some time, you know. I’ve imagined making love to you in all sorts of ways. I shouldn’t think we’d be able to cover it all in just one day, truthfully.”

_Truthfully_. Well, if Aziraphale was saying it at _all_ , it must be true. Crowley moaned at the thought of days, weeks, months–Hell, even _centuries_ of getting extremely well-acquainted with Aziraphale’s corporation. There wasn’t enough time in the world to make him lose interest, he thought.

While Crowley was lost in his fantasy of a never-ending sex marathon, Aziraphale rolled them over so that he was on top of the demon. Crowley startled at the sudden movement and blinked up at Aziraphale. “Hi,” he said.

Aziraphale chuckled. “Well, hello!” He kissed his cheek, then his lips, then pulled back to say, “Would you be so kind as to give me your cunt, dearest?”

Crowley groaned, and almost immediately his corporation gave in to the angel’s request.

“ _Oh_ ,” said Aziraphale lowly, suddenly feeling the wetness of Crowley’s sex on his thigh. “That’s lovely. Oh, _Crowley_.” He captured the demon’s mouth in a kiss, slipping a hand between their bodies to rub at Crowley’s clit. “Too sensitive?” he asked with the utmost sincerity.

Crowley shook his head. “S’perfect. Perfect, angel. Fuck. Fuck me. Fuck.”

“Mm,” groaned Aziraphale. He aligned his hips as if angling to push into Crowley, then uttered a sheepish, “Oh,” and tried to hold back a laugh as he admitted to his lover that he “nearly forgot to grow a cock”.

Crowley breathed a laugh and closed his eyes. “And _this_ is the angel I’m in love with,” he teased.

“Oh, hush, you–” Aziraphale giggled. “Alright, I’m– I’m ready,” he managed to say. “Are you ready?”

Crowley held up a finger, still trying to rein in his laughter. “Give me a sec.”

“Oh, I’m prepared to give you quite a _lot_ of sex,” said Aziraphale. Theplay on words only served to make Crowley dissolve into more snorts and giggles, so Aziraphale managed to pull himself together enough to press his cock at the demon’s entrance, and rub his fingers teasingly at Crowley’s clit.

This snapped the demon out of his laughing fit quite quickly, and he coughed a bit before sucking in a breath and nodding. “Okay, I’m– _Fuck_ , I’m ready, now. Like, _now_.”

“My, my,” mused Aziraphale, “aren’t we demanding.”

“Oh, shut up, it’s not like you aren’t overly eager yourse _lfffuuuck_.”

Aziraphale had chosen that precise moment to push into Crowley, and really, he’d wanted to smirk at him, but the feeling of being enveloped in the heat of the demon’s cunt really made it difficult to do more than draw his brows together and moan.

Crowley bit his lip and moved his hips up and down and around in little circles, effectively fucking himself on Aziraphale’s cock. “Mmph, _nnngh_ , fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Aziraphale blinked down at Crowley and realized the poor demon was doing most of the work for him, and that simply wouldn’t do. He grabbed Crowley’s hips and held them in place, and then, without another word, drew back and began slamming into him at a rough and desperate pace.

“ _FUCK!_ Fuck. _Shit_ , angel, _fuck_ –” Crowley whimpered when the thrusting suddenly slowed to a stop. “N-no, fuck, please– Don’t stop.”

Aziraphale leaned down to murmur in Crowley’s ear, a slight growl to his voice, “I want to fuck you so hard that you can’t help but come in under two minutes. It’s been a fantasy of mine for years.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Shall I start counting for you?”

The moan that Aziraphale’s words ripped out of Crowley would certainly be enough to get the attention of anyone on the street outside, but, luckily, Aziraphale had sound-proofed the room with a miracle some few decades ago. After all, this was the space where he had the occasional wank about his aforementioned fantasies, and the angel _did_ enjoy being vocal, even on his own.

Crowley, though. _Crowley_ being vocal was something Aziraphale’s fantasies hadn’t prepared him for. The raw sounds coming from the demon below him, the desperate little whimpers and vibrating groans and– _Fuck_ , Aziraphale needed to elicit more of those from his lover. So, he scooted back until he was standing at the foot of his bed, then grabbed Crowley’s calves and pulled him toward him, until the demon’s pussy was on display right at the end of the mattress. Then he lined himself up, pressed in, and started thrusting again, even faster than before, his fingers white at the tips as he gripped Crowley’s thighs.

“ _Agh!_ ” Crowley gasped, then gave a low moan. “ _Ahhh_ , fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Yes! Shit!”

Aziraphale began counting, somewhere in the back of his mind. _One, two, three, four…_

He pounded away, fucking into Crowley with such intent, such focus that he was hardly even cognizant of the pleasure it brought his own cock. He just needed to make Crowley come.

_Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen…_

Crowley was practically chewing on his lip as he reached a hand up to run through his own hair, breath growing erratic.

“Yes, Crowley, that’s it,” said Aziraphale, his voice rough with lust but soft in his encouragement. “You’re doing so well, darling. You want to come, don’t you? Soon, dearest. Soon.”

By the time a minute and a half had passed, Crowley was sobbing in pleasure, his hands quivering as he fisted them in the sheets and held on for dear life.

Aziraphale smiled when he felt the demon’s cunt tighten around his cock a few times, and then a series of vowels and consonants spilled from Crowley’s lips before he finally breathed Aziraphale’s name.

“One minute, 47 seconds,” said Aziraphale, fighting to gain control of his own breath despite the fact that he’d yet to orgasm. “Oh, I’m so _proud_ of you, Crowley.”

Crowley whimpered.

“Rather proud of myself, too, I must say.”

That earned Aziraphale a little breathy chuckle. Crowley looked up at him and sighed. “Ought to be. That was… _Fuck_ , angel, that was…”

“Only the beginning, I assure you.” Aziraphale reached down to rub at Crowley’s clit. “I’ve yet to give you a clitoral orgasm, for one. And to come, myself. Do you want me to fill you up, darling? As you did for me?”

Crowley sucked in a breath. He _did_ want that. Someone help him, he _did_. Fuck.

“Shall I continue?” Aziraphale pulled his face into a concerned frown. “Or do you need a moment to, er, recover?”

Crowley huffed a laugh. “I’m– I’m good, angel. Anyway, s’not much work for me, is it? You’ve made certain of that.” He nodded toward the hand Aziraphale still had on his hip, holding him in place.

“Mm, yes.”

“You know, I have no idea where you’re getting all this energy.”

“It’s from all this pent-up desire, I think. And now I can act on it, and, well,” Aziraphale nodded pointedly between their bodies. “I suppose it’s given me a bit of an energy boost. I’m rather excited.”

“I hadn’t noticed.”

Aziraphale “tsk”ed at him, but smiled. “Er, back to fucking, then?”

Crowley sucked in a breath and nodded. “Yeah.”

Aziraphale beamed, then slowly began thrusting into Crowley again. He took his time, rubbing at Crowley’s clit as he leisurely fucked into him. “I can’t wait to taste you, darling,” he said. “Your cunt. I wonder if it differs from your cock…” There was a mesmerized quality to the angel’s voice, and he looked dreamily down at his lover as he pleasured him with his hands and cock. “I’ve dreamt of this for so long, Crowley. S- _so_ long.”

Crowley gasped out, “Me, too, angel,” shivering as his clit pulsed under Aziraphale’s fingers. “M’gonna come again, I think.”

“So am I. Oh, Crowley, I– I love you. I love you.”

Their orgasms took them over slowly, growing stronger with each passing second. Aziraphale filled Crowley’s pussy with his release and Crowley whimpered and shakily guided the angel’s hand away from his overstimulated clit.

Aziraphale breathed and finally pulled out of Crowley. “That was…”

“Not the end, I hope.”

Aziraphale quirked a brow. “Oh?”

Crowley bit his lower lip and nodded. He hesitated a moment before adding, “I dunno if I can come again, though. Might be all fucked out.”

“Oh, I doubt that.” Aziraphale trailed his hand over Crowley’s clit, teasing down over his labia, then went lower, ignoring his pussy in favor of massaging around the demon’s other entrance. “There are parts of you that have yet to be stimulated,” he said, lowly.

Crowley sucked in a breath. “Fuck.”

Aziraphale gave a low hum. “Quite. Would you like me to fuck you here, Crowley? I’d really like to fill _both_ your holes with my seed.” He nodded his head to the side a bit. “If that’s alright with you, I mean.”

Lazily, Crowley blinked a few times and grinned. “S’alright with me.”

“Oh, good. For a moment I thought you’d had enough for the day. Which, of course, I’d have respected, but I am quite eager for more, if I’m going to be honest.”

“Which you are.”

Aziraphale drew his brows together. “What?”

“Being honest,” said Crowley. “Have to.”

“Oh. Oh, yes. Although I think it may be wearing off. It doesn’t feel quite as… as _imperative_ that I tell you things, now. It’s more of a… a strong suggestion. I think I could fight it if I wanted to, only I don’t.”

“No?”

Aziraphale smiled softly. “No. You’ve made me feel quite safe to express myself, dear. Thank you for that.”

Crowley smiled back at him. “Anytime.” He reached a hand up to trace his fingers down Aziraphale’s forearm. “Really, angel. You’re always free to tell me what’s on your mind. _Anytime_.”

“Mm. Well, what’s on my mind at the moment is that I’d really rather like to be inside your arse, and I’m feeling a bit impatient about working you open, so w–”

“‘Impatient’ is sort of your _thing_ today, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Aziraphale said, quickly and simply. “Now, would you mind if I…?” He trailed off, raising a hand poised to snap.

Crowley chuckled, then nodded, and Aziraphale used a miracle to ensure he was ready for the angel’s cock.

Aziraphale slid into him with a sigh, closing his eyes and adjusting to the sensation. Crowley gave a little whimper and wrapped his fingers around Aziraphale’s wrist, just to have something to cling to. Aziraphale looked down at him and smiled, bringing his other hand down to run through Crowley’s hair and trace down his cheek and the side of his neck, coming to rest on his chest. “You’re so lovely, Crowley. So beautiful. And so _warm_ , goodness. I feel so comfortable with you, here like this. Surrounded by what I–er, _who_ I love most.” He sighed. “Anyway, I’m going to fuck you again, now.”

Crowley was about to laugh at the sudden change of tone, and question whether the truth serum had really begun to wear off at all, but then Aziraphale made good on his word and all Crowley could do was moan.

Aziraphale rocked into him at a steady pace, and slid his hand down from Crowley’s chest to his clit and started rubbing it erratically, a bit lost in the sensations on his cock to really give it the proper focus. He frowned. “Could you– Will you grow a cock for me, dear?” he asked after a moment. “I’m having difficulty stimulating your clitoris at the moment. I’d like something to, er, hold. If you don’t mind, that is.”

Crowley gave a breathless laugh and nodded, shifting a bit beneath him. “I can do that, yeah, just–”

“But keep your cunt, please. I’m not through with it.”

“A-alright,” said Crowley, swallowing thickly. “ _Fuck_ , angel. Alright.” He put his hand over his clit and let it grow into his usual cock, keeping the rest of his vulva as it was.

Aziraphale groaned at the sight below him and took Crowley’s cock in hand immediately, perhaps a little too tightly if the demon’s hiss was any indication. He apologized and loosened his grip, then continued fucking him as he began to stroke Crowley’s cock in time with each thrust. It was slow, at first, but he quickly worked up to a pace that could be considered, in his mind, “a proper pounding”. The angel’s own cock was still sensitive from his last release, and, without the restrictions of a truly human body, he felt himself quickly approach another orgasm. He stroked Crowley a little faster, slowing his own pace inside of him. He wasn’t ready to be finished yet.

When Crowley seemed to be nearing the edge, Aziraphale fucked into him harder and faster, continuing to jerk the demon’s cock. With his other hand, he reached for Crowley’s mouth and prodded two fingers at the demon’s lips. Crowley let them in without question, swirling his tongue around them and even giving a few sucks before Aziraphale removed his hand, and put those two fingers inside Crowley’s pussy.

The combined sensations of being fucked in the arse, having his cock stroked, and suddenly having two thick, soft fingers rubbing inside his cunt pushed Crowley to the most intense orgasm of his existence. He came with a shout, his pussy squirting all over Aziraphale’s hand and his cock shooting its release between their bodies. Aziraphale groaned and came hard inside of Crowley, chest heaving as his hands slowed their movements to avoid overstimulating the demon.

As they caught their breath, Aziraphale pulled out of Crowley and collapsed on the bed, throwing an arm over the demon and pulling him closer so he could nuzzle at his neck.

They lay like that for a few minutes before Aziraphale murmured, “We ought to clean each other up.”

Crowley grunted in agreement, and raised a hand. Aziraphale caught it and brought it back down between their chests. Crowley turned to look at him expectantly.

“I meant another way.”

Crowley quirked a brow. “Another way?”

Aziraphale licked his lips and nodded, not taking his eyes off of Crowley’s. “Another way. A way that is arguably more fun.”

Crowley smirked. “Does it involve using our mouths?”

“Mm. And tongues.”

“Part of the mouth.”

“I suppose it is.”

“It literally is, angel.”

“Well, I’m not _arguing_ with you, you ridiculous– I would just like to lick my ejaculate out of you! Goodness. Is that _alright_?!”

Crowley grimaced. “If you call it almost _anything_ but ‘ejaculate’, yeah.” He shifted a bit in the angel’s arms. “I never got to taste _you_ , though. Been looking forward to that.”

Aziraphale brightened. “Oh, of course! We could do that sex number. You know, position ourselves so that we could both perform oral sex on each other at the same time. Er… Which configuration would you prefer? Shall I keep my cock?”

Crowley gulped and turned about five shades more pink than he already was. “Er, I dunno. Which do _you_ want?”

“Oh, I’d be happy to have your mouth on _any_ part of me,” said Aziraphale, “but I do think right now I’d rather enjoy your tongue lapping at my cunt.”

Crowley gulped again, his throat suddenly dry and nearly causing him to cough as he swallowed around nothing. “I, hnmph, nnh, yeah. Yeah, I think I’d enjoy that, too.”

There was almost a mischievous glint in Aziraphale’s eyes as he smiled and rolled onto his back, his spent cock shifting into a pink, glistening pussy. “Right, then. You lie atop me, with your head between my legs, and that should put your genitals right at– Oh!”

Crowley hadn’t waited for Aziraphale to finish his instructions to take his position. As soon as his mouth was near the angel’s cunt he’d licked his clit and then pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the whole of Aziraphale’s sex.

Aziraphale forgot what they were meant to be doing for a moment; his eyes had closed almost immediately to take in the sensation of Crowley’s mouth on his pussy. His hands flew up to grasp Crowley’s arse as he whimpered and moaned. Then he felt the demon’s cock twitch against his collarbone and opened his eyes to find Crowley’s come-filled holes within reach of his tongue, and, well, that was rather the point, wasn’t it? He darted his tongue out and got to work on Crowley’s pussy first, then flicked his tongue a bit higher, and went back and forth to eat out both the demon’s holes.

It was a great deal more difficult to concentrate on eating pussy when your own pussy– _and_ arse were being eaten out. _Christ_. Crowley moaned as he continued to lick reverently at his lover’s sex, and sucked in a breath when Aziraphale’s tongue traveled down a bit to tease his softening cock.

It wasn’t long before Aziraphale felt his orgasm approaching. But Crowley had already grown hard again, his cock leaking over Aziraphale’s chest, and it gave the angel an idea.

“Darling, sit up,” he said, tapping Crowley gently and prompting him to roll off of him with a whine. “I want to look at you when you come, dear, please, let’s– _mmm, oh_ –l-let’s finish like–” Aziraphale moved to sit up at the edge of the bed, then helped a confused Crowley up and onto his lap so that they were facing each other. “Like this.” Aziraphale smiled at his lover. “Hello.”

Crowley quickly adjusted to the new position, looking at Aziraphale with an expression that was both bright and somewhat dazed. His mouth and chin glistened with the evidence of just how wet the angel’s pussy was. _Fuck_ , he’d enjoyed that. The rich, sweet taste, and the smooth, velvety feel on his tongue… But with another breath, Aziraphale grew his clit into a cock, like Crowley had done earlier, and before Crowley could ask what the plan was, the angel was wrapping his hand around both their cocks and began stroking them together.

Crowley and Aziraphale moaned in unison at the feeling of their cocks rubbing against each other, Aziraphale’s hand working them slowly. Crowley shuddered in the angel’s lap, nearly falling between his knees and off the side of the bed. Aziraphale put his other hand behind the demon’s back and held him in place. “I’ve got you,” he said.

Crowley didn’t know what to do with his hands, but he felt like he should be doing _something,_ so he reached between the two of them to rub at the cunt below Aziraphale’s cock. Aziraphale sucked in a breath, but grabbed Crowley’s hand and guided it back behind the demon’s back.

“I’ve _got_ you, Crowley,” said Aziraphale, his voice soft but firm. “Just be still and let me work us to orgasm one last time, dear. Just one more for today. You can do that, can’t you?”

Crowley’s breath grew erratic and he nodded with a whimper.

“Good. There’s a darling boy. Oh, how I’ve cherished this time, my dear. And how _wonderful_ it feels to know we can have this, th-that my love, _our_ love is not unrequited.” Aziraphale sucked in a breath as he stroked himself and Crowley in _just_ the right way, bringing the two of them closer to orgasm.

“Angel,” Crowley breathed. His hands quirked behind his back, anxious to grasp at something, and Aziraphale must have noticed because then the angel’s hand was wrapping around Crowley’s wrists and holding his hands in place behind his back. Crowley whimpered at the feeling of being so thoroughly _held_ , and let his head fall forward to Aziraphale’s shoulder.

“I have you, Crowley,” said Aziraphale, managing to keep his voice soft and steady despite the fact that he felt about ready to burst from pleasure. “I’ll always have you, from now on, _always._ I’m holding you, dear, and I’ve no intention of ever letting you go. Never. Not for a moment.” He picked up the pace, stroking their cocks until he felt the both of them pulse in his hand. “I have you, my darling, I have you– Let go.” 

Crowley came with a sob, and Aziraphale only a second after, their come mixing between their bodies as Aziraphale breathed hotly against Crowley’s ear, “I love you. Darling, I love you so much. Thank you. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for t– _mmph_.”

Crowley caught Aziraphale’s mouth with his own and got his hands free from the angel’s grasp so that he could wrap his arms around Aziraphale’s back and pull him harder against him. They kissed for a few seconds before Crowley remembered to say, “I love you, too,” which earned a chuckle from Aziraphale. “What?” Crowley demanded.

Aziraphale scooted back onto the middle of the suddenly miraculously clean bed and pulled Crowley with him until the two of them were lying on their sides, facing each other. “‘Thank you for telling me you love me.’ That’s what I was going to say just then, before you kissed me.”

“I always did, you know,” said Crowley, softly. “Tell you. Before. Not with words, obviously, ‘cause, you know. Sides and stuff. But…”

“Actions.” Aziraphale nodded. “Yes, I know. I see it, now. Now that I’ve _allowed_ myself to see it.”

Crowley smiled and traced a finger down the side of Aziraphale’s face before bringing his hand back between their chests. “Thank you for being honest with me today, angel.”

Aziraphale huffed a laugh. “Well, I didn’t have much of a choice in the matter, did I?”

“Maybe not, but it’s still–”

“And we’d _quite_ the misunderstanding, earlier,” the angel pointed out.

Crowley grimaced. “Eugh, yeah– _Real_ glad I was wrong about all that. The shame and regret stuff, I mean.”

Aziraphale took Crowley’s hand in his and brought it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to each knuckle before murmuring, “I’ll spend eternity showing you just how unashamed I am to be yours. If you’ll have me.”

“Think we’ve established that I _will_. Have you.”

Aziraphale beamed. He moved his and Crowley’s hand out of the way in order to kiss him, but kept the demon’s hand in his. “Well,” he said,“I’ll never tire of hearing it confirmed.”

“I will have you for eternity, angel,” Crowley said earnestly. “And,” he continued, “I promise to be open with you. Honest about– about thoughts and feelings and stuff. All I ask is that you do the same. Once this truth thing fully wears off… Don’t stop telling me how you feel, angel. If you’ve got something to say, I– I hope you know you can trust me by now.”

“Oh, Crowley… Of course I trust you. And now that I know that my affections are returned, there’s not a thing I could even think to keep from you. My truths are yours, darling; I trust you with them to the ends of the Earth.”

Crowley smiled, then put on a teasing frown. “Well, wait a minute, there, angel, what if Armageddon Part Two comes along?”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “The ends of the Universe, then.”

“You don’t think Heaven and Hell’s war would expand into the rest of the Universe once they’ve destroyed Earth? I think–”

“Alright, alright.” Aziraphale huffed, but wriggled closer to Crowley nonetheless. “You know,” he said, pausing only to press a kiss to the demon’s neck, “I was _trying_ to be _endearing_.” He pulled back and then moved in to kiss the other side of Crowley’s neck. “You are quite honestly spoiling the moment,” he murmured.

Crowley smirked. “Well. Thank you for being honest.”

“Tch,” chided Aziraphale. “ _Honestly_.”

The day went on, turning to night as the couple bickered playfully and kissed and cuddled and exchanged words of devotion, and then morning came, and Aziraphale woke without having realized he’d dozed off. Crowley’s head was snuggled close to his chest, and at some point one of them had miracled a soft, comfortable duvet over the two of them.

He could feel that the effects of the truth serum had clearly worn off, and Aziraphale couldn’t be happier as he gently shook the demon in his arms. He had something he had to say to him.

Crowley’s eyes opened one at a time, squinting at the angel holding him, and he yawned before asking what was up.

“I love you,” announced Aziraphale. He beamed. “Oh, it feels so good to say it now, entirely of my own accord! I _love_ you, Crowley. And I’m not sorry in the slightest.”

Crowley smiled back at him and leaned his head forward to press a kiss to the angel’s nose, then to his lips. “I love you, too.”

They were silent for a moment, just soaking in the bliss that comes with finally, _finally_ waking up in the arms of the one they love.

“Breakfast?” asked Crowley after a few minutes.

Aziraphale licked his lips. “Oh, there’s an idea. Mm.”

Crowley smiled, already moving to sit up. “I’ll make it for you. Or pick something up. Or miracle it right here, on a platter. Breakfast in bed. Whatever you want, angel. Any requests?”

Aziraphale bit his lower lip, considering. Then, with what could almost be described as an apologetic pout, he said, “You know, I think I’ve actually got a craving for pears.”


End file.
